Bottle Episode
by lizandletdie
Summary: Belle French and Eli Gold never really thought much of each other, until a drunken encounter leads to them being snowed in with nowhere to avoid each other. Is it possible there's more between them than they thought?
1. Chapter 1

The Storybrooke Chamber of Commerce's annual Christmas party was a notoriously weird affair. The combination of a full bar with a bunch of stodgy business owners and any local public servants with an interest in the historic downtown could result in the sorts of events that made up small town gossip for the whole rest of the year. Two years previously, the mayor had been caught in a broom closet with the local sheriff. This year, though, the gossip was going to be the librarian Belle French and Eli Gold who owned an antique shop right across the street from the library.

She'd never really paid much attention to Mr. Gold, to be honest. Her apartment was provided by the city, so she'd never had many dealings with him outside of the general consensus around the town was that he was cold and calculating, and she'd never had any reason to question it as they had never spoken beyond simple pleasantries. At least, not before tonight. Maybe it was the many, many, _many_ drinks she'd had, but he was extremely witty! He had a sharp sense of humor that she found she really liked, and he was so charming, too. Or at least he'd bought the last few rounds, which at this point was basically the same thing. And she should definitely tell him that.

"You're so funny," she said, brushing her hair back off her face. "I didn't know you'd be this funny! I really, really like that in a guy."

"You're too kind," he replied a little unsteadily. "But I knew that because that's what everyone says. 'Belle is very sweet,' did you know that? You're pretty, too."

She giggled and tapped his shoulder lightly. God, he was _so_ funny!

"I'm gonna get us more drinks!" She wobbled on her feet as she got out of her chair and teetered off towards the bar. Shoes had been a mistake tonight, and she should probably take them off after she ordered.

"I need another rum and Coke and a whiskey with water," she said to the bartender as she leaned on the bar. "Please."

"Sorry, ma'am," he said. "I'm afraid I have to cut you off."

"No, I'm fine," she said, forcing her eyes to focus through sheer force of will. "I am fine. I'm totally fine. And one of them is for Mr. Gold, you know."

"He's cut off, too," the man said. "You have both had enough."

"Is there a problem?" She heard Mr. Gold ask from behind her.

"Sheriff Swan and Mayor Mills have both told me to stop serving you two," the bartender said. "You can have water or soda but that's it."

She was so disappointed. She'd been having such a good time and she wanted to keep going.

Eli was arguing with the bartender which was just ruining her good mood when suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"Wine!" She exclaimed. "I have wine at home! Do you want wine?"

"Yes, perfect!" He replied, turning towards the bartender. "We will leave and have wine."

She was still regretting her choice of dress shoes as she giggled her way out the door clinging to his arm, especially when the valet couldn't give them his keys (which she actually did understand because they'd had quite a lot to drink) so they were going to be walking the three blocks to her apartment and then the stairs up to the single bedroom apartment above the library the city had set aside for her use.

They never actually got to the wine. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her, but she was on him as soon as they were through her front door. Maybe it was just that she hadn't had sex since she moved to town over a year ago, or maybe it was just the liquor doing her thinking for her. Either way, he was _right there_ and apparently just as eager for it as she was. They barely made it into her bedroom, shedding clothes all along the way.

Consciousness hit Eli Gold like a freight train the following morning, followed shortly by the reality of the situation. It hadn't been a weird dream, he'd actually gone home with the librarian. The same librarian who was still out like a light in the bed next to him. This was not a good idea in the slightest. Setting aside that he only had the vaguest of memories of the previous evening, mostly vague images of a pretty brunette and long legs.

Belle French was certainly pretty enough, but a pretty face couldn't do much to alleviate a dull personality, and he hadn't ever seen much evidence that she had much more to her than the love of books he would expect from anyone who made a career out of them. Or, at least, he hadn't before last night when she had proved that at the very least she was _quite_ adept at holding her liquor, which was certainly...something.

He wasn't much for one night stands, but he was fairly sure that sneaking out before she woke up would be fairly uncouth, and anyway the choice ended up being taken from him when she suddenly roused herself with a bit of a start.

"Mr. Gold?" she blurted out, staring at him with something akin to disbelief on her face. So she evidently didn't remember much more about the previous evening either, then.

"Good morning," he said for lack of anything else to say. He was no happier about any of this than she apparently was, which did at least give them something in common.

"How much did we drink last night?" she asked, and he knew it was a rhetorical question but he felt compelled to answer it anyway.

"Too much, I'm afraid. It's been quite a long time since I indulged like that, and hopefully I won't be doing it again anytime soon."

"I haven't had that much to drink since college," she replied before sitting up with a groan. He joined her in being upright, forcing himself to go slow as his stomach revolted at the idea of movement – and he would _not_ vomit in a stranger's apartment, he would do it in the privacy of his own home, or at least in an alley outside.

By the time his body had adjusted to its new, vertical lifestyle she had already pulled on a light blue robe with pink roses over it and made a go of standing and he was suddenly very aware that he was the only naked one. Luckily, his boxers were easily located on the floor near her bed where he suddenly remembered having thrown them the night before in his haste to be inside of her. He cringed at the memory, he'd been far too absorbed with the idea of having sex for the first time in a depressing number of years, and he had a suspicion that he hadn't exactly covered himself in glory after getting his clothes off.

"I can make breakfast if you want," she said from the other side of the bed and he had to admire her willingness to put a good face on for him.

"No, thank you," he replied. "My son is home from college and I should probably be heading back before he gets worried."

"I didn't know you had a son," she said, sounding more shocked than anything else.

"Just the one," he said as he gathered her clothes and trying really hard not to wonder exactly how long it had been since she was in college. It did finally occur to him that the _son_ part of that may not have been her biggest cause for concern. "No wife," he continued. "Not anymore, anyway. She lives in Fort Lauderdale."

She visibly relaxed at this little bit of biography and he mentally kicked himself for climbing into bed with her prior to providing it.

"Oh. Well, I hope you have a good visit."

They almost certainly would not, Bailey would have preferred being almost anywhere else but his dorm was closed and he needed to do his laundry, so he kept coming back.

"Thank you."

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as he dressed before she finally turned and walked through a door that presumably went back into the living room. He got his pants and shirt on as fast as he could, though his shoes and jacket had apparently been dropped out in the living room which required him to follow her out. His socks may just be a lost cause, and as much as he hated to go out without them he would also very much like to just get home and get this awkward encounter over with.

"Did you find your stuff?" she asked him once he'd gotten his jacket on and he nodded, feeling in his pockets to ensure his phone, keys, and wallet were at least still there.

"Thank you for…" He trailed off, unsure of what he was thanking her for, just not knowing how else to get the hell out.

"Yeah, sure. Well, it was nice to meet you."

"You too."

And then he was out the door to the hallway and breathing a sigh of relief. Sweet, sweet freedom. It was far and away the most awkward encounter he'd ever had with a woman, and his ex-wife had attended their son's high school graduation with a new live-in boyfriend who worked as a sailing instructor.

He found the stairs down easily enough and let himself out through a door just outside the library into a damn blizzard. The snow was easily up to the middle of his thighs and still coming down heavily. Mailboxes and cars were simply larger piles of snow, and Eli had no idea what on earth to do. He'd known there was snow on the forecast but he had not realized that there was apparently another ice age on the horizon though. There was no way he was going to make his way home, even if he walked down to the Civic Center that the party had been in and managed to dig himself into his car, the streets were completely covered in snow still and anyway, he wasn't really dressed for the weather. He briefly considered trying to make his way to the antique shop down the block, but aside from the cot he kept in the back room he didn't have any real provisions or anything. He briefly thought about dialing 911 and faking a medical emergency, but even that would probably be a crapshoot as to whether or not he'd freeze to death before the one ambulance in town made it to him.

There was absolutely nothing for it, he was going to have to go back upstairs and impose himself on her hospitality. Again. But first, he had to throw up in her alley.

Belle breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she had the door latched. She had _never_ done anything like that at all. She hadn't known he had a kid or that he'd been divorced, and honestly she wasn't entirely certain she remembered his first name correctly. Elliot? Eli? Something like that. She was just relieved it was over and she could hopefully pretend like it had never happened.

She picked her dress up off the floor before it got too much more wrinkled and it had been such a pretty one with the illusion netting on the halter top and the full skirt with a tighter fitting layer beneath it. Maybe she'd get another few uses out of it, if she ever went anywhere nice. The rest of her clothes could just stay there until she felt less like crawling into a nearby hole and dying. Step one would be to take a shower and clean herself up, step two would be eating something, step three would probably be taking a nap. But first, her shower.

There was a knock on the door before she even managed to get the hairbrush off her vanity, and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was really only one person who might need to knock on her door right now. Her fears were confirmed when she checked the peephole and found Mr. Gold on the other side of the door. looking just as awkward as she felt. And she couldn't even pretend like she wasn't home, because where would she have even gone? She braced herself and opened the door.

"Is everything okay?" she asked before he could say anything.

"Yeah, there's just...there's a blizzard outside. I can't get out."

She had to let him back in. She couldn't just leave him outside to freeze, so that meant she had to let him stay in her apartment. While she was there.

"Come in." She stepped back to let him in and returned to her living room, digging her phone out of her purse so she could check the weather report for him. "Oh, damn. It's supposed to be snowing the rest of the day."

"Do you have a television? I'll check the report."

"I actually don't. But I do have an emergency radio."

She went to the closet where she kept her flashlights, batteries, and the little radio that she had for natural disasters and power outages. She flipped to a local station but it was just playing music, so they'd have to wait for a DJ to get on and let them know when snow plows would be out and what the plan for them was. The city wasn't extremely big, and Belle knew her street usually wasn't a high priority since it was mostly businesses and government offices rather than emergency services and residential areas. She was basically the only person who lived within four or five blocks. It was basically the worst place to be snowed in.

"I can go ahead and make eggs or something if you're hungry," she offered. She could postpone the shower to be polite. And maybe they'd get an answer about when he'd be able to leave.

"No, no, I'll cook," he replied, looking at her robe and then quickly away. "It's the least I can do for imposing.

"It's not an imposition," she said, realizing all at once she was still largely naked. "Anyway, it'll be easier to do it myself than tell you where everything is."

He looked a little reluctant, but seemed to accept her reasoning.

"You're right. I need to call Bailey anyway and let him know where I am – or ah, at least that I'm safe."

"Good idea. Let me know if you need anything?"

He retreated across the room and dialed while she went to the kitchen to contemplate breakfast. Coffee was an easy first step. She also had bread and eggs, but no bacon or anything which pretty much meant French toast. Good enough, it only took a few minutes to make mediocre French toast and hopefully he'd be out of her hair soon enough. After a few minutes of him being too quiet for her to effectively eavesdrop he finally hung up the phone and returned, sitting on one of the two dining chairs she had.

"How is everything at home?"

"He's fine," Gold replied. "He asked that I not ever tell him where I am, but said he'd be fine."

"Well, you said he's in college. As long as he has electricity and food I'm sure he can take care of himself."

"I know, but still. I worry."

"You sound like my dad," she blurted out before instantly regretting it. Wrong thing to say on either side of a one night stand. "I just mean, he likes to call me to check up."

She finished her cooking quickly, setting it on the table before pulling down a pair of mugs from the cabinet.

"How do you like your coffee?" she asked.

"Black is fine."

He'd taken his coat off again and rolled his sleeves up a little bit, which helped her feel a little bit more comfortable sitting across from him in her robe. She filled his mug and then hers, finishing hers off with a splash of milk and some sugar before bringing both to the table and joining him for breakfast. He thanked her, but they ate in silence after that. This was so awkward she could hardly stand it.

Finally, the emergency alert noise came on the radio and both of them turned to face it as one.

" _The Storybrooke emergency services are asking all non-essential travel be postponed during the blizzard. Snow is anticipated to fall throughout the day and crews will begin clearing the streets this evening once it's slowed. No power outages are expected, though residents are advised to fill water jugs they have available with water just in case. We will be updating throughout the day as the situation progresses…_ "

"Oh dammit," she said under her breath.

"My sentiments exactly."

She didn't have enough alcohol to get through this. He'd been hilarious when she'd been drunk, and now they were trapped together in her too-small apartment while they waited for the apocalypse to finish up outside.

"I think I'm going to take a shower," she said at last, pushing away from the table.

He nodded and she turned quickly and retreated to her bathroom, making sure to lock the door after her. Not that she thought anything bad was going to happen, but still. She didn't know much about him at all besides his name and where he worked, and that he had a kid. And that he was, for lack of a better word, _handsy._ Very, very handsy in a very, _very_ good way. God, she really needed to check if there was a used condom someplace in her bedroom. She really hoped there was.


	2. Chapter 2

Eli watched her vanish into the bathroom and, once the door was locked, began to take in his surroundings. He took a quick survey of her kitchen before moving the dishes to the sink. He washed them along with the pan and her mug before pouring himself another cup of coffee. She was still in the shower, so he wiped down the counters quickly before running completely out of things to do to keep himself occupied. He took his mug and tried to find something to distract himself with. His first impressions of her hadn't been wrong about her love of books – her small living room area was overrun with them. Aside from three bookshelves which were all packed full, there were a couple stacks spread between end tables and the coffee table, as well as what could politely be referred to as a _pile_ underneath the sofa. There were no Christmas decorations, but he knew the library itself was well decorated.

He started looking through her shelves to start. The books themselves ran the gamut from literature to romance novels to hard sci-fi. She didn't seem to have any particular favorite genre, or at least not that he could determine. There were also mementos, too – snowglobes and postcards from tourist destinations and framed photos. He was fully snooping now, but he could still hear the shower running so he had time to do it. There were photos that seemed to be from Belle's whole life. In one, a little girl smiled on a beach somewhere and in another, the same little girl sat in a restaurant sandwiched between a man and a woman who were presumably her parents. Later photos showed Belle as a teenager posing with friends, and then as a young woman standing under a sorority banner with another set of girls. In what seemed to be the most recent photo, she was on a boat with a young man who was largely cropped out by the frame, but his hand was on her thigh and he was conspicuously absent from any other photos. Tellingly, in that picture a ring sparkled on her left hand where it rested in her lap. Curious.

He heard the water shutting off and quickly grabbed a book off the shelf and flipped it open. The book turned out to be a very nice edition of _Finnegan's Wake_. He was flipping through the pages when Belle finally emerged from her bedroom in a pair of plain leggings and a long sweater.

"Has there been anymore news about the storm?" she asked. He absolutely had not been paying attention, and didn't want to admit it.

"Nothing yet," he replied. "I was just admiring your collection. You've read Joyce?"

"Some of his work, yeah. But that one was actually a graduation gift. Have you read it?"

"No, I've tried a few times but never got through the first chapter."

"Yeah, we read _Ulysses_ in one of my lit classes in college and I liked it, so I guess my aunt thought this one would be a good present. I still haven't worked up the courage to attempt it myself, at least not without a professor there holding my hand. It sure looks nice on the bookshelf, though."

Belle couldn't think of what else to say. The conversation had tapered off and they were just standing there awkwardly by the books. She glanced to the bookshelf in the hopes of finding something to smooth this over, but all she saw were the same damn photos that were always there. She really needed to get rid of that engagement picture, but it had turned out to be such a good photo of her.

"Did you want to take a shower?" she blurted out before turning back to him. "There's still hot water and I have shampoo and everything in there."

"Oh, yeah, that would be nice," he replied, returning her copy of _Finnegan's Wake_ to the shelf. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'll see if I can find you something to change into."

He smiled quickly and headed towards the bathroom before she remembered her manners.

"Oh! Wait!" she called after him, hurrying ahead of him to the bathroom closet. "I have clean towels."

She handed him the towels and accepted his thanks before scooting past him back out of the room. This was so weird. She felt like she was running a hotel, or at least a bed & breakfast. Whatever, she was never, ever going to try to have sex ever again because this was just _way_ more trouble than it was worth. She was sure she had a pair of Gaston's sweatpants she'd stolen because they had been super comfortable in a drawer someplace, and combined with an old sweatshirt from college it would have to be good enough. She folded both and left them outside the bathroom door leading into her bedroom so he'd have some privacy to get dressed.

The radio was still just playing the same announcement from earlier in between pop songs, so she turned it down a little bit and started going through her stuff looking for something to do to entertain him even though to be honest she really just wanted to spend the day on her laptop or curled up with a book. But her grandmother would have smacked her for being rude if she'd even thought about it, so here she was. Luckily, she had a few board games someplace. Or at least she had Scrabble, Life, and, weirdly, a deck of Uno cards. That was going to have to do.

She heard the door to the bathroom crack open and he poked his head out.

"I left some clothes for you on the chair in my bedroom," she said before he could even ask about it. He quickly shut the door and she heard the one between the bathroom and bedroom open and a few minutes later he emerged in the clothes she'd laid out. She'd cut a few inches off the sweatpants, so they weren't super long anymore but he still looked a little out of sorts. Hopefully at least it was more comfortable than the suit he'd been wearing the night before, though.

"I found board games," she said with the brightest smile she could muster given the circumstances.

"I don't think I've played any of those in ages," he replied. "I doubt I even remember half the rules."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I have all the instructions. And if not, we'll just have to make it up as we go."

He looked a little bemused as he came to join her in the living room and picked up the Life box.

"God, I haven't played this since my son was little."

"I honestly don't even remember buying it," she replied as she started unpacking the game. It was silly, but she was actually kind of excited about playing the game. It had been awhile since she did anything like this, college at least. Back when she was in California, for sure.

They quietly picked their car colors – she had blue and he had red – and assembled the board. Both decided to go through college, though he was slightly ahead of her getting through to the chapel to get married, though she caught up quickly.

"Hopefully this one goes better than last time," he quipped as he popped the little pink figurine in next to his blue one.

"Fingers crossed," she replied. "I'm not really sure how it could go worse, though."

He did a double-take before focusing back on the game in front of him.

"You were married?" he said with a studied casualness that belied how awkward he clearly felt to be asking the question.

"Legally? No. It was annulled, so technically it never actually happened."

She watched to see his reaction to this little truth bomb, but to his credit he never flinched. Her marriage wasn't really something she liked to talk about, even though it was really more of a _wedding_ than a _marriage_. They hadn't even made it as far as the honeymoon. Still, though, he'd owned up to his divorce she could at least offer this little anecdote of her own.

"So how long have you lived in Storybrooke?" she asked when he didn't press for more of the sordid details of her doomed marriage.

"A little over twenty years now," he replied.

"What brought you out here?"

"Well, I'd gotten married and it was time to start a family. We could stay in a city and work too much and pay too much in rent for someplace where our son would never have a yard to play in, or we could move to a small town with a big house and I'd be home every day before dinner. It was an easy choice."

"It is a good place for starting over, isn't it?"

"Is that what brought you here? Starting over?"

"Yeah, pretty much," she replied. "I was living just south of San Diego and it was just...I wanted to be as far away from there as I possibly could be. This was the furthest place from where I was living that offered me a job."

He twirled the spinner and started counting out his moves before drawing a card.

"That's as good a way to start over as I've ever heard," he said. "Sometimes it's good to just get away."

"Yeah, and honestly I just needed a fresh start."

He nodded, and she liked that he didn't push too hard right now. He just seemed to accept her reasons without pushing to understand them. She didn't want him to understand them, didn't really want to think about it too much. It had been the worst few years of her life that brought her to Maine, and reliving them was just going to put a damper on the rest of the day. They were actually sort of getting along so why ruin that just to reflect on her tragic past?

Eli had to fight not to let her win – the last time he'd played this game, Bailey had been in elementary school so Eli hadn't exactly been trying his hardest to win. He was fairly sure that taking a similar strategy with Belle would be the wrong tactic if he didn't want to offend her, which he very much didn't. He liked her, he hadn't thought that he would but she was clever and nice enough to put a good face on the situation. But more than that, she'd been daring enough to move across the country just because she had needed a change. He respected that, because he knew how hard it could be to start over.

The fact that she'd had an annulment rather than a divorce seemed to imply a more interesting story than his own failed marriage. He and Milah had simply grown apart, and their marriage had been over for years before she finally pulled the trigger on leaving him. It had been painful, but also terribly bourgeoisie. A middle class divorce to match the middle class life they had both aspired to early in their marriage.

He was far too focused on thinking about his ex to pay enough attention to the game, so she ended up beating him handily despite his early lead.

"Congratulations," he said as soon as her little car crossed the finish line.

"Why thank you," she replied a little smugly. "I'll remember your magnanimity when I've crushed the rest of the world beneath my heel."

"That's quite benevolent of you, I can't wait to see your plans for government reform."

She smiled prettily at the tease and began sorting through her stack of game pieces, separating them back into the piles they had come from.

"Did you want to play again?" she asked as she counted her fake money back into the tray.

He didn't particularly want to, but there weren't that many other options. Besides, he was enjoying her company. He definitely didn't have another round of _Life_ in him, though.

"A different game, perhaps?"

"Sure," she replied, packing away the rest of the game and retrieving the Scrabble box from one of the book piles and setting it down on the coffee table in front of them. "I think I'll make some tea, though. Would you like some?"

"That sounds perfect."

She nodded and left him there while she retreated to the kitchen. He watched as she set the kettle on the stove and started pulling mugs out of the cabinets. He shouldn't watch her too intensely – it was weird and off-putting. Instead, he opened the game and set out the board and the little letter trays, and then pulled out his phone to check his email. It was nothing too interesting, although there was a text from his son. Apparently, all was well at home and if Eli needed to stay out an extra day that was fine with Bailey. He was considering how best to respond when Belle interrupted from the kitchen.

"Milk or sugar?" she called out, and it took a moment for him to remember the tea.

"Sugar, please," he called back, locking his phone and returning it to his pocket just in time for her to emerge from the kitchen with two mugs of tea and a sleeve of cookies tucked under her arm. He felt like an asshole, because he'd absolutely have gone into the kitchen if he'd thought about it, but she was setting his mug down in front of him before he could even get to his feet and then she set the other down across from him along with a package of shortbread cookies.

"It seemed like a good time for a snack," she said before he could even say anything. "Now, are you ready to get your butt kicked again?"

She dropped to sit on the floor across from him and shook the bag of tiles, so they could start drawing them and he realized for the first time that he might actually be in a little over his head with Belle French.


	3. Chapter 3

They were halfway through the pack of cookies before they came up for air from the game. Belle was surprised at how good Eli was at Scrabble, she hadn't been allowed to play with anyone back in San Diego because she was so good at it. She was still pretty sure she was going to win, but it was nice to at least have a challenge. They'd been playing for ages, and the longer it went on the less talking they did, he was pretty competitive but so was she. If they were slightly more comfortable with each other, she could easily see this turning ugly. She was already choking down her worst instincts whenever he put down a particularly good word.

"I should have let you stay outside," she muttered when he played _QAT_ down to a double word score.

He just chuckled as he drew his replacement tiles and she watched his face settle into a smirk as he started rearranging them in his tray. She couldn't quite decide if she liked it or not. He was a smug bastard, but he was a handsome one.

"Nervous?" he asked her, and she just glared at him as she contemplated her tiles, letting her eyes flick between her letters and the ones on the board while she mentally arranged and rearranged them until they made some kind of sense. At last, her eyes lit upon her vengeance, and she watched with no small amount of satisfaction as he took in the word _BEZIQUES_ where she'd placed it coming off of his Q.

"Well played," he said.

"Wasn't it just?"

"I hadn't pegged you as a sore winner," he said with a voice dripping with amusement.

"I am not. I am competitive. There is a difference."

They played in silence a little longer, he may not have expected her to be competitive but she'd always assumed that he would be. He had a reputation for being such an asshole, but the more time she spent with him the more she realized that wasn't the whole story – sure, he was almost certainly a right royal bastard when he wanted to be, but beyond that he was mostly just competitive and a little sarcastic. But he had a sweetness to him that peeked out on occasion. He would banter with her over _Life_ and match her intensity at _Scrabble_. There was nothing else for it, she was having fun with him.

They played in relative silence for the rest of the game, until finally the last tiles were played and on checking the scores he'd edged her out by less than a dozen points. That was...different.

"Are you okay?" he asked her carefully, and she tried super hard to relax. She _always_ won at Scrabble, she should not be this upset by it, and she definitely did not know him well enough to freak out about this.

She nodded, and bit her lip to keep from talking. Talking was bad, and she'd say something she regretted. Instead, she just set about packing away the board and pieces. After a bit she felt him watching her and when she glanced up he was watching her and obviously trying to hide his amusement. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly.

"No, tell me!"

"It's really nothing."

He was trying so hard not to smile it actually made her smile. She was being ridiculous. This was all ridiculous.

"I'm sorry. I'm overreacting."

"Think nothing of it," he said. "I'm sure you'll beat me next time."

"Maybe." _Next time_. If that was her way of asking her on a date, she was willing but he was definitely going to have to do better than that. "We'll see."

"How long have we been playing this?" he asked, pulling his phone out and checking the time. "Wow, it's already afternoon."

"Oh, damn. I guess I should probably make lunch."

"I'll help." He jumped up to his feet and offered her his hand where she sat. She took his hand and let him help her up off the floor. It took her a split second to realize that she was standing too close to him and she quickly took a half-step back with a muttered _thank you_ before retreating to the kitchen.

Belle surveyed their options in the pantry and the refrigerator. She hadn't really prepared to be snowed in (the news had called for 'flurries' not 'the apocalypse') and she certainly had not prepared to be entertaining anyone in her home. This storm needed to clear up or she was going to be in trouble.

"How do sandwiches sound?" she asked. There wasn't much else without getting into dinner territory, which was something else she was going to have to figure out later.

"Sandwiches sound perfect. What can I do?"

"Can you check the pantry? I may have some canned soup or something in there."

He poked his head into the pantry. "I see a carton of tomato and… how much Top Ramen does one woman need?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Can you make the tomato soup and I'll make sandwiches?"

He nodded and pulled the little waxed paper carton of soup from the pantry. It was a slightly higher quality than the canned variety, but honestly snowy weather made her miss the canned stuff. It wasn't a complicated meal, but it was nice just cooking quietly with another person, even if she did only sort of know him.

Eli hadn't done anything like this in ages. When Bailey had been a little boy they'd certainly had snow days together, but that was a decade or more ago and certainly a different energy altogether. He didn't know that he'd ever had a day like this before.

The radio was still playing after they'd finished eating, the conversation had paused and she was just smiling at him and it was comfortable. Very comfortable. He stood quickly and grabbed the dishes off the table, bringing them to the sink like he'd done after breakfast.

"You don't have to do that," she said. "I can get them in a little bit."

"I don't mind. Besides, it's the least I can do."

"Well, thank you anyway. It's nice not having to worry about them for a change."

He could well understand that sentiment, as much as he didn't mind living alone the daily minutiae of keeping a house by himself did wear thin. It was nice to have a short break from dealing with his own home, even though his was going to be completely destroyed by a college student by the time he got back to it. Well, real life could wait just for the day.

Belle filled a kettle while he washed the dishes, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as she opened a cabinet next to the refrigerator.

"Coffee, tea, or cocoa?" she asked.

"Um, tea is fine."

She was humming a little tune as she prepared the tea, and he ended up distracting himself cleaning the sink just to stick around a little bit longer and listen to it. Besides, what else was he doing before the tea was finished?

"Do you mind taking the tea out to the balcony?" she asked him. "I want to get some blankets."

He took the mugs and followed her back into her bedroom and out through a door he hadn't noticed to a small patio with two chairs and a little table which he set the mugs on before sitting. She offered him a blanket and he settled in with the tea and blanket. It was nice and comfortable, and even with the cold there was a warmth he hadn't anticipated.

They weren't able to stay outside much more than an hour or so, but somehow it didn't seem like a wasted day. It was actually almost comfortable, even pleasant, which wasn't how he was used to feeling around strangers. But then, could he really say that she was a stranger still? They'd most likely had sex and sure, he didn't remember much of it, but it still meant something. Or at least it should. He wasn't exactly in the habit of having casual sex with women, and especially not with women who he actually rather liked. So, the question just remained, how not-casual was this, and how to move forward from here.

Belle was sprawled across the sofa with a book in her face – an inexpensive looking paperback copy of a novel he'd never even heard of, and he was trying to lose himself in an article on his phone, but it wasn't really working. It was a dull article about tax rates, and it just could not hold his attention.

"So what do you want for dinner?" she asked without even looking up from her book.

"I'll take care of it."

"No, that's okay. I can handle it."

"I don't mind. You look a lot more interested in your book than I am in what I'm doing, and besides, you cooked for me this morning."

She didn't look completely convinced, but she was also glancing down to her open book in a way that implied that she was at an interesting part.

"Keep reading," he said and she finally nodded and leaned back down into the sofa with her nose back in the book. It was cuter than he'd have thought it would be, and he was enjoying her obvious enjoyment of her novel.

The kitchen was still a bit of a mystery, but a quick glance through her pantry revealed dried pasta, garlic, olive oil, and some chili flakes. Her fridge yielded a lemon and parmesan cheese. Parsley would have been perfect, but she had cilantro which would work fine. He put the pasta on and set about sauteing everything else in a saucepan when he heard her nearby.

"That smells amazing," she said, glancing into the pan he was working on. "What is it?"

"It's _pasta aglio et olio_ , nothing fancy."

He was showing off, and she probably knew it, but she didn't say anything about it. It was an easy enough dish to make, but it always sounded complicated if you didn't see it being made. She made a little humming noise and smiled before retreating to the pantry. She emerged with a bottle of red wine and stood on tiptoes to reach two wine glasses in the cabinet. She poured one glass and offered it to him with a little tilt of her head, wordlessly asking if he wanted the wine. He took the proffered glass and she poured the other one for herself as he started mixing the pasta into the oil sauce with a pair of tongs. A spritz of lemon, a little bit of the leafy parts of the cilantro, and a lot of parmesan and it was ready to plate.

Dinner went well. The wine had eased both of them just enough to smooth the conversation, but not enough to cause any stupid decisions like the night before. They finished all of his pasta followed by the remainder of the cookies and a second bottle of wine. She was all easy smiles and sweet giggles no matter how bad the joke he told. It was pleasant and fun, and by the time they retired to her living room he was already beginning to sense that she might have some interest in him. It was an odd thing to be sitting next to a woman he hadn't thought twice about two days ago wondering if he should ask her on an actual date, but it was also his new reality.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asked. That was never a good thing to hear from a woman in general, and he was not sure at all this was going to go well.

"Depends on what it is."

"Where does your son think you are?"

Oh. Well, _that_ certainly wasn't where he saw that going.

"He knows I spent the night with _someone_ , but I didn't exactly go into details."

"So he's not going to come around telling at me to stay away from his father?" She said it with a sly smile and he realized all at once she was flirting.

"No, I think you're safe." He had to come up with some way to flirt back. But subtly, because this was still so new and so promising. "What about me? Am I going to have an army of jilted admirers chasing me down to defend your honor?"

She giggled again and stretched out her foot to tap his knee playfully. "No, I've been staying away from men for awhile now. But you're not supposed to talk about that before, like, the fifth date."

"Yeah? Well, I won't tell if you don't."

"It's really not that interesting. I mean, do _you_ date a lot? Since your divorce, I mean?"

He had to laugh a little at the sheer absurdity of the question. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there aren't that many single women in this town."

"You know what I meant! I just didn't want to jump back into another mistake."

"Fair, although I admit I am curious how you managed an annulment."

"That was the easiest part! We got married in Vegas, and the first night of our honeymoon he confessed he'd been having an affair, and his side chick was pregnant."

His jaw dropped and he wanted to say something comforting, but honestly what was there to say to that?

"I _could_ have gotten a divorce at home and it would have probably been easier, but I wanted it to have never happened. So I petitioned for an annulment in Nevada and that was that." She took a long drink of her wine and looked away for awhile and he pretended not to notice that she was blinking back tears before she looked back at him with the big smile back on her face.

"Would you like to dance?" he blurted out before he could even think about having asked her. The radio was still on, there was music playing, and he'd just asked her to dance. He was about to backpedal and try to play it off as a joke, but then she surprised him.

"I'd love to."

She got to her feet before he did, and at that point there was no backing down without being a jerk and a coward, the dumbass who panicked at the idea of a girl liking him.

It was silly to dance to the radio in her living room, but it felt so damn romantic Belle couldn't stand it. She probably shouldn't have said the things she'd said about her marriage, but he was probably going to find out sooner or later and she'd never actually told anyone what had happened, they'd all just sort of figured it out when he'd posted the sonogram on Facebook. It was just nice to have said it all out loud. It had felt like the rug had been ripped out from underneath her and she'd spent the last two years in a freefall before finally landing and finding her feet again. And now, she was dancing.

He was a decent dancer, though they weren't exactly doing anything special. Just swaying in time and trying not to be so self-conscious that she couldn't look at him. It was nice, and it was easy to pretend just for a moment that this was going to be her life from now on. She knew next to nothing about Eli, it was a silly fantasy world and he was just a stand-in for the ideal she'd created of the man she _should_ have married, but it was her fantasy and for right now it was exactly where she wanted to be. He was looking at her like he wanted her, like she was the only girl in the world, and she wanted to chase that elusive feeling for just a little bit longer. The Belle who lived this life would think nothing of tilting her head back and kissing him, but the real one was only given the courage by the wine and the late hour of the evening.

Kissing him sober was a whole new experience for her. He was a good kisser, he didn't try to push too hard or control the kiss, he asked and she answered. They weren't dancing anymore, but it took her awhile to figure it out because she still felt like she was spinning. Maybe it was a bad idea to do this, but if so it was the right kind of bad because she just felt better about herself when she was talking to him. He already had to stay the night again, what did she have to lose?

She broke away from the kiss and loved the dumbstruck look on his face. That made the choice for her, she wanted to keep seeing that look for as long as she could.

"Do you want to go to bed?" she asked. She wasn't sure if he'd gotten her point right away, so she punctuated the question by teasing the ends of his hair in her fingertips waiting for the dawning realization of what she meant. It had been on the table all day, and it was time to follow through.

He didn't reply, instead he just leaned down and kissed her hard again. She sighed into the kiss when his hands came up to hold her face and she leaned into him. It was so nice to be close to anyone, but especially to him. They had all night, and they were both finally, blissfully, sober.

The morning had come too soon, and Eli was actually disappointed to find out that the roads had been cleared and he was safe to go home. She'd kissed him goodbye, and he'd asked her to get lunch sometime. She'd agreed, and as soon as Bailey had gone back to college they'd started dating in earnest. It was the happiest he thought he'd been in the last decade.

He was at work when he heard the bell on the door ringing, and when he looked up she was there, dusting snow off her shoulders and looking just as beautiful as she ever did.

"Hey," he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Is there someplace we can sit?"

He felt his stomach drop to his feet at her mood, because she was more serious than he'd ever seen her. He pulled the curtain to the backroom open and she didn't wait before walking in ahead of him and dropping onto the daybed in the back with a dazed look on her face. He was worried as hell now, and if she didn't tell him what was going on soon he was going to have a heart attack.

"What –"

"I'm pregnant." She hadn't even waited for him to finish sitting down across from her before saying it, and for a brief moment he thought that she might be kidding, but she was stone faced as she sat there and it wouldn't have been funny in any event.

They'd only been dating about six weeks. He couldn't believe this had happened – what the hell were they even going to do?


	4. Chapter 4

Bottle Episode prompt - Maybe not a Big Proposal proposal, since he's aware of Belle's past, but could they have a discussion to figure out what she wants to do?

Eli felt like time was moving faster than he was. Belle was pregnant. It was apparently his. They had barely even been dating for six weeks, and only really picked things up in January which was a solid two weeks after conception. The timing was...suboptimal.

He was struggling to come up with a better reaction than ' _how?'_ (he'd certainly been there when it happened) when she finally spoke again.

"Eli, I need you to say something." He could tell she was trying to sound normal, but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. She was trying to hold it together, and he needed to pull himself together long.

"What are you going to do?" he finally asked, even though it felt woefully inadequate to the situation.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Oh. Well, what do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure about that, either."

"Do you need me to –" he couldn't believe he was about to say this "– _help_ with anything? Money or a...ride?"

She bristled immediately. "I don't need money, and my insurance would cover _that_ anyway."

"So what do you want me to do?" He knew as soon as he said it that he'd fucked up, that wasn't even the question he had meant to ask. It didn't matter though. He'd asked the question, and it was too late to call the words back.

Belle's eyes narrowed at him and she immediately got to her feet. "You are the biggest jerk I have ever met. Do you know what I want from you? I want you to forget this happened. I'll take care of everything."

She was clearly about to storm out and he had _definitely_ fucked up.

"Belle, wait." He quickly stood and managed to interrupt her before she got past the curtain to the front of the store. "That's really not what I meant to say," he said. "I'm sorry. What I meant was What _can_ I do?"

"I don't need anything from you," she said. "I don't even know what I came here looking for."

"What do you _want_ to do?"

"I don't know yet, to be honest. I kind of wanted to see where you stand before I made any plans."

So it was a test, and he was probably not doing great. There wasn't really a right answer, though. He liked her, but he wasn't about to propose and he didn't think she'd accept even if he did. They barely knew each other, they certainly hadn't discussed this, and he was two years away from his other child graduating college – he was supposed to be done with this part of his life. And yet…

"I think we should really talk about it," he finally managed to answer. "I'm here for whatever you want to do. I know it changes things between us, but I'm still here. Regardless."

Belle felt a little better hearing him say he supported her choice, but she still really had no idea what that was. In a way, it would have been easier if he'd been hellbent on _not_ being involved because that was one less variable to think about. Now, though, her mind was just all over the place and she was no closer to making a choice than she had been an hour ago. This was the single biggest decision she would ever make in her life. Regardless of what she decided to do, it felt like her life was going to change and she'd been so happy with how it was going.

"It would be stupid to keep it, right?" she asked. "I mean, we barely know each other."

He nodded, but didn't say anything. Which was good, because all of a sudden she couldn't _stop_ talking. "I mean, look at my apartment! It's a one bedroom, I'd have to move. My family is all on the other side of the country, and I don't really have anyone around who could help besides you."

"I wouldn't call it helping," he finally said. "If you want to keep it, I want to be involved. I can help you find another place to stay, and parenting isn't _helping_."

"Are you saying you want it?"

"I'm not saying that I _don't_ want it. If there's a child out there I want to be involved."

"So if we end up keeping it, what would your involvement look like?" It probably wasn't a fair question, but his willingness or not to co-parent should be a factor, and as much as it sounded like the first question you'd ask in a job interview for a baby-daddy, it was at least vital information for her at the moment.

Eli seemed a little taken aback by her frankness, but he recovered quickly enough. "I haven't exactly planned this out ahead of time. I have a lawyer I worked with on my divorce, and we can get a referral to help you iron out child support and custody details."

The casualness with which he brought up going to court had her hackles up immediately. "So it would just be whatever a judge says? The minimum you have to do?"

"I didn't say that, but let's not dance around our circumstances here. We're not married, not living together, and not in any sort of long-term relationship. I like you, but if we're going to have a baby I want to make sure it's taken care of and that I'm able to be involved regardless of any romantic attachments that we may or may not have."

 _Oh_. His words hit her like a glass of water splashed in her face, and it was a sentiment that steadied her. He wasn't going to run off, regardless of whether they were dating. That was a good sign.

She should be more reticent about this, but well, she'd thought that she was doing things the right way when she got married and that had turned out to be a giant mistake. Maine had been her second chance and time to start over, and maybe doing things the _right_ way wasn't for her? It was probably a really bad idea, but she kept coming back to the fact that a not insignificant part of her really, really wanted this baby.

"I think I want to do it," she said into the silence that had fallen over the room since her thinly veiled interrogation. She was ready to be a mom, and even if this was all upside down she thought she could do it here. "Is that totally crazy?" she asked when he didn't immediately respond.

He looked a lot like she'd just shot him for a moment, but suddenly he let out a deep sigh and smiled. He closed the distance between them and put his arms around her, hugging her and burying his face in her neck so happily that she was sure she must be dreaming because nobody was that happy to find out that they'd knocked up their girlfriend and she was planning to keep it. "It's absolutely insane," he said. "But I guess so am I."


End file.
